Happy Birthday
by rentvenger
Summary: It's Mark's birthday, but everyone forgot him. TW: Depression
1. Chapter 1

"October fifth, 10 PM, Eastern Standard Time, here I am, Mark Cohen," the camera pans around Mark and Roger's apartment, showing that it is empty and dark, and Mark's voice sounds sad or disappointed maybe? "And where am I? See the empty apartment, alone. Roger is downstairs at Mimi's showing her his new song. Angel and Collins are out... who knows where... And Maureen and Joanne were too busy to visit me. So this is how I'll spend my Friday night, wasting away until I'm nothing. Funny," he gave a dry chuckle, "How all of your friends can forget you on your birthday..."

Mark looked around the room, setting his camera to his side, still rolling, though the only shots it would get was the metal table that Mark was sitting on, "Happy Birthday to me... Thanks guys..." he paused. "Really thanks a lot," he mumbled, bitterly to no one. The only thing that was there to listen was the pipes, and they would never fill the void of his friends.

Mark sighed a shaky sigh, knowing that no one would come to him. "They all... they all just forgot me..." the blonde reflected, his voice heartbroken. He picked his camera back up, "So to continue, this is the empty apartment that I share... My roommate... and might I add best friend... Is too busy to be with me." he rambled, his voice getting sadder, and sadder as he continued.

"Why don't they want me?" Mark asked himself in a whisper, starting to tear up, but wiping his eyes before the tear fell from his face. "No tears, it's fine... What did you expect Mark. Roger forgot last you last year, what made you think this year would be any different?" He was talking to himself, but who cared, he had no one else to talk to.

Mark sighed, letting the camera pan around some more, as if inspecting the dark place. Mark wasn't going to turn on a light just so he could be alone, it didn't matter to him. He liked the darkness so he could pretend to slip into the shadows, nothing was all that bad in the shadows. No one in the shadows forgot about you. No one in the shadows could judge.

Mark looked to the door, he could hear Mimi and Roger, and was trying to block out the pairs cute coupleness, when he himself was all alone. "So to wrap up," he said to the camera, "Here is Mark all alone, happy birthday Mark. Happy, happy birthday." And with that the filmmaker stopped rolling the camera and looked around, humming the song. Happy Birthday.

Mark slid off the table, brushing at his khakis and picking at a stray thread in his sweater, pulling at it, and flicking it off, letting the string fall to the floor. He sighed, watching it fall to the hard floor. "Sorry," he said, actually to the string.

He gazed over at Roger's guitar, with no one to talk to, everything was interesting to Mark, and the blonde wasn't sure why. But he stared at the guitar, it didn't hurt him as badly that Roger had forgotten. For the second year in a row his best friend had forgotten about his birthday. That stung a bit, but Mark figured that he would have to deal with the loneliness, the small twinge of betrayal that he felt in his heat, but he said nothing. And he wouldn't say anything. Not to Roger. Mark never did share his feelings with the rest of his friends, no need to burden them with the inner mind of Mark.


	2. Chapter 2

Mimi leaned over, feeding Roger another strawberry. Though she knew that the rocker would never admit it, her boyfriend loved it when she fed him. "Too bad I have to work tomorrow, baby, it's the sixth." The dancer complained, petting slightly at Roger's hair, with a smile on her face, despite the complaint.

Roger's eyes widened slightly at her mention of tomorrow's date, no. That couldn't be right, "No Meems, it can't be the sixth tomorrow, because that would make today- no. It's not." he explained.

The dancer shook her head, "Nope, I know my days of the month and I am absolutely sure that tomorrow is the sixth of October," Mimi said, matter-of-factly, continuing to shake her head as she held another strawberry out in front of his mouth for him to eat.

Roger was shaking his head as well, "But I promised I wouldn't forget again!" he exclaimed, sounding half panicked, half disappointed in himself. Had he really managed to forget his best friend's birthday for the second year in a row?

Mimi looked completely and totally confused at Roger's ranting, arching her eyebrow and putting the strawberry back in the container once she realized that the guitar player wasn't going to eat it. "What on earth are you talking about?" Mimi asked.

Roger just stood up from the couch, looking flustered, "But-... I... I have to go, babe." he stammered, and with that the struggling musician was out the door, and down the stairs.

He headed to the apartment, realizing he had nothing to give his best friend, and he sighed. He dug through the pockets of his pajama pants, pulling out a few dollar bills from his pocket, shocked that he had them. He folded them in his palm and rushed out the door of the building, key in hand so that he could actually get back in.

As he exited, he unfolded the few bills he had and counted them. He had somehow managed to scramble up seven dollars. He could manage to do something with that, right? Well he was going to have to try.

Yeah, all he needed was cake and a gift... He could do it if he tried. The question was how fast could he gather the stuff for Mark? It was already getting darker.

He wandered through the city, but the only thing he could find as a cake late at night was a box of vanilla wafers and whipped cream. He decided that would have to do, and he took it to the register and bought it.

Roger sighed, and carried the bag along with him, walking back into the cold air. He wished he was wearing more than his pajama pants and a no-sleeve shirt, but oh well, it was really too late now.

A gift? What was the guitar play supposed to get Mark on such short notice. What could he get the man whose only love was his camera and his scarf which the filmmaker seemed to wear all of the time.

Roger wandered, looking in storefronts for the perfect gift for his best friend. Looking for something. Anything. "Come on, what to get..." he muttered, sadly. Still searching hard, he was determined.

After fifteen minutes, Roger gave up and walked into another grocery store, buying Mark a box of Captain Crunch for the the other blonde's gift. He like the cereal right?

He also bought a candle, might as well shine a little light on the crappy birthday Roger was about to give Mark. He put that and the Captain Crunch in the bag with his make-your-own-cake failure.

The musician started his decent home, trudging past homeless people, trying to at least get home before midnight, he finally returned, fumbling to get his key in the lock, but eventually he managed, "Hey, um, happy birthday!"


End file.
